Out of Mind

Willow was seriously worried about Vanity, whom she would rather see in bed and sedated. When she wasn’t following Willow, telling Rock U. yet again how to erect the garden marquee he was clearly comfortable putting up with the help of the men who had delivered it, or leaning over Marley while she made calls, Vanity stood at a distance from the taped-off foot of the main stairs. Each time she could get close enough, she asked when the last traces of Chloe’s blood could be cleaned away.

Abruptly fixating on something in the grounds, Vanity walked out of the sliding doors leading to the terrace. She kept on walking until she reached Val and Preston, who both got up and hugged her.

A movement caught Willow’s attention: Marley hovering outside the kitchen door, trying to see who was there.

“You look like a scared rabbit,” Willow said. “Vanity’s gone outside.”

Marley slipped into the room, a sheaf of papers under one arm. “Now she wants costumes,” Marley said, her brow furrowed. She gripped the edge of a counter hard with one hand.

“Sit down,” Willow said. “You’re letting this get to you. My other people will be here just as soon as they can—one of them can make the calls, or I will.”

Looking past Willow at a section of blank wall, Marley’s frown deepened. She narrowed her eyes and the frown turned very angry.

“What is it?” Willow said, glancing around.

Marley shook her head once and turned her back. “Costumes. I’ve got to call everyone back and tell them to come in costume.”

“No, you don’t,” Willow said. “I’ll deal with it. Vanity isn’t thinking.”

“She wants a masquerade ball. Masks. High drama, is what she said.” Marley faced Willow again, but her eyes slid off to look in the same direction as before. “That isn’t appropriate,” she said, barely moving her lips.

“What?” Jumpy, Willow chafed her arms. “Oh, you mean the ball idea? There isn’t going to be a ball if I can stop it.”

Marley went to the sink and looked out into the grounds where Vanity stood with Preston and Val. The three of them were nodding with evident enthusiasm.

“You want to bet she’s not telling them about this incredible idea of hers now?” Marley said. “It’s going the extra hundred miles, she says. Shows the level of adoration Chloe’s friends had for her. Adoration was the word she used.”

“Wow. That would probably mean decorating the place to theme.”

“Yeah, fake stone balustrades, soaring statues, Greek columns, fainting couches, velvet, gold—you should have heard it.” Marley paused for breath. She looked repeatedly at the spot over Willow’s left shoulder. “How would anyone do something like that anyway?”

“No problem,” Willow said, almost ashamed that the challenge appealed to her. She started mentally lining up the people she’d call for props.

“Get off the counter,” Marley said sharply. “Okay, that’s it. You’re annoying.”

Willow’s stomach flipped. “What did I do?”

“Not you—him.” She put her hands on her hips. “You want to bet on that? Give her a chance. Go on—see what happens.”

Bemused, Willow turned around.

She couldn’t see anything unusual.

“That’s not fair,” Marley said. “And don’t tell me not to let her hear what I’m saying to you. It’s your own fault—I’m not going to let her stand there wondering what’s going on. You give our talents a bad name. I’m not asking you to go out of your way—just open up to her. If she can see you, she can see you—why should that be so bad? It’s all in the family.”

A wavering form, with a human shape that faded in and out, but never became clear, sat cross-legged on the central island.

Willow peered closer, and put a hand over her mouth. “Sykes?”

“He loves being invisible when he communicates with me telepathically,” Marley said. “Let him in.”

“He’s not invisible,” Willow pointed out. “Not completely.”

“That’s because he’s letting you sort of see him. I told you she would, Sykes. Have a little faith in your own family, you oaf.”

“That’s the respect I get,” Sykes communicated to Willow. “I’m here to save your rears from ghouls and goblins and what thanks do I get? Insults, that’s all.”

Hearing him like that shook Willow, but not as much as seeing his transparent body behaving like a veil of shifting smoke on the counter.

“Did you hear that?” Marley said in Willow’s mind. “He’s here to save us.”

Willow swallowed and kept her mouth shut. “We can take care of ourselves, you overgrown sprite,” she thought.

“Wow,” came back from Sykes. “Haven’t we told you for years how abnormal you really are? Now maybe you believe us.”

“Those three are coming back,” Marley said aloud. “What are we going to tell them if they want their silly masquerade ball?”

“First, Sykes, get lost. If Vanity saw you like that she’d completely lose it. If she hasn’t already.”

“You and I can see him,” Marley said to Willow. “That’s because he wants us to. Don’t worry about them.”

Sykes hopped to the floor and disappeared completely.

“Does he do that a lot?” Willow said.

“Whenever I feel like it.” Sykes voice was too loud in Willow’s head, and she jumped.

Vanity came into the kitchen with Val and Preston. This was the closest Willow had been to Val since she arrived that morning. Preston looked drawn, but Val looked like hell. He seemed to have lost pounds overnight. His face drew back beneath his cheekbones and purple slashes underscored his eyes. His hands moved incessantly from his pockets to his face to be held down beneath his upper arms and back to his pockets.

“Masquerade,” Vanity announced, her dark eyes feverishly bright. “Start making those callbacks, Marley. Please, darling. This is going to be completely memorable.”

“Okay,” Marley said slowly, looking at Willow. “What should I tell them exactly?”

“Masquerade ball,” Vanity said promptly.

“It’s very short notice,” Willow said tentatively.

Vanity ignored her. “And we’re going to need a videographer. We’ll show it at the funeral just as soon as they release Chloe’s body.” Bright red spots burned high on Vanity’s cheeks. “I can give you names for video people.”

“Vanity,” Val said faintly. He hadn’t shaved, and his beard was many shades darker than the surfer-blond hair. “Are you sure this isn’t in really bad taste?”

“Damn, one of them is still sane after all.”

Willow really wasn’t comfortable with Sykes’s disembodied voice. She crossed her arms and tapped a foot.

“What?” Sykes sounded tetchy.

“I was thinking I didn’t like your disembodied voice too much, is all.” She cleared her throat. “That’s a joke.”

Sykes didn’t respond.

Marley chuckled softly behind her hand.

The stares they got from Preston and Val wiped out any banter. Fortunately, Vanity was soaring in the rosy haze of her costume party bubble and hadn’t noticed anything different.

“Off you go,” Vanity said to Marley. “Willow, the man doing the marquee is impossible. He’s rude—that is, he doesn’t talk to me. And the tattoos—awful. Get rid of him.”

“Sorry,” Willow said. “That’s Rock U. and he’s excellent. Let him get on with what he’s doing. I’ll have him